


Icky

by TheLanceShow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Falling In Love, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance does not have ADHD, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), References to Depression, Self-Acceptance, Suicidal Thoughts, Tags Are Hard, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 01:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLanceShow/pseuds/TheLanceShow
Summary: A little bit of pining in their lifeA little bit of sickness by his sideA little bit of happiness is what they needA little bit of depression is what I seeA little bit of angst in the sunA little bit of crying all night longA little bit of comfort there he isA little bit of you that makes me your manFic in which Lance McClain goes to a coffee shop everyday and Keith Kogane falls harder with each visit.Lance has some really bad allergies.





	Icky

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash for sensitive Keith and I should probably stop doing this
> 
> Edit: I've re-read this so many times for spelling mistakes and I keEP FINDING MORE

Lance McClain was a regular at the café by the name of Lioness. Keith was very aware of that.

Lance McClain would walk in everyday, order the same thing, hang out for a while, then walk out. Just a simple black coffee--no cream, it's useless--and a small smile, and he left. Keith knew this.

Lance McClain was a bubbly person, liking to make idle chit-chat with Keith. He complimented Keith's eyes, once. Keith stored that in his memory, along with the laugh Lance gave at his expression.

Lance McClain walked in today with a slight sniffle. Keith raised an eyebrow, "Getting dick, uh, sick?"

_For fuck's sake, Keith._

Lance smiled sleepily and laughed. "Sadly, not getting dicked down, but I'm pretty sure it's just allergies. I'm allergic to everything under the Sun."

Keith, mortified, grabbed a medium cup. He began to ring up the purchase as Lance's usual. 

"Actually," Lance said. "I'd like a chamomile tea. Iced."

Keith raised an eyebrow. Last time Lance tried something new, he slammed it on the counter, causing the hot liquid to spill over his hand, and demanded to speak to the manager.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Lance nodded. "And a large, please. No sugar."

"You realize it's cold outside, right?" Keith asked, mildly concerned. He had a feeling something not entirely good was going to happen to Lance.

"It's not anymore. I'm actually quite hot." Lance shrugged, taking out his wallet. "How much?"

_Yes, Lance, I'm fully aware that you're quite hot. Steamy, actually. Scorching._

Keith hummed, "On the house, Buddy. Don't worry about it."

Too tired to argue as usual, Lance nodded and went to the waiting area. Keith's gaze followed him until he sat by the window and put his head down.

"Earth to Keith," he heard Pidge mutter. "Why not just ask him out already?"

He rolled his eyes and began to make the amazingly complicated tea Lance ordered. He didn't respond for a while. Lance didn't seem interested in him at all. He flirted with everyone except for Keith, unless he counted that one time he called Keith's eyes pretty. That wasn't really flirting, though, more of an observation than anything.

"Lance is about as interested in me as much as he likes chocolate." He side-eyed Pidge. "Lance does not like chocolate."

"What about chocolate, also known as, Satan's poo?" Lance sniffled, surprising Keith. It caused him to jump and spill a little of the cold tea onto his hand as he poured it into the to-go cup.

"When did you get here?" Keith asked, slightly panicked. If Lance found out about his stupid crush, he didn't know what would happen. He was weak when it came to Lance but thank the Gods he was a good actor.

Lance tapped a finger to his chin, giving another sniffle, "When you were like, '-as he likes chocolate.' What were you guys talking about?"

"You," Pidge deadpanned, then walked back to her register. 

"Hardy-har, you're hilarious." Lance raised an eyebrow.

"I try."

Keith fumbled and nearly dropped the tea when he looked into Lance's eyes. They seemed more dull than usual and the fight he regularly put up wasn't there. "Lance, are you really okay?"

"Allergies," Lance waved him off. He picked up his tea and grabbed a straw from the chest pocket on Keith's shirt. His finger lightly brushed his neck and he shivered.

"You look like shit," Keith said but no malice was behind his words.

"Love you, too, Sweetheart! See ya tomorrow, and thanks for the free tea!" He exited.

"Astounding, you're officially as whipped as Indiana Jones." Pidge said, snickering. "You're face is so red right now."

"He wasn't whipped, he had one, stupid. And for the record, I don't blush." Keith crossed his arms.

"Yeah, sure, Elmo."

Keith scowled and began to clean the machine he used. He finished just as another customer came in, frantic.

"Yeah, hello, have you seen a man with blue eyes, brown skin, dark brown hair? Maybe wearing a hat? High-top sneakers? Baggy jacket?" The male asked, eyes a little wild.

"Are you talking about Lance?" Pidge piped up.

"Yes, yes! Where is he?"

Keith sighed heavily, "He walked out five minutes ago. I dunno where, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

The man groaned and threw his head back, "Thanks for the help, bye."

After the could-be stalker, the day went by at an incredibly slow speed. Keith's irritation radiated off of him and for the most part, customers avoided him. He just wanted to go home.

At closing time, Pidge brought up Lance again.

"You seemed pretty worried about Lance today," She started, taking off her apron. "And really agitated after he left."

Keith shuffled over to the of the tables and flipped a chair upside down, placing the seat of the table itself. "I was. He didn't look well."

"Just ask him out."

Keith started when Shiro's booming voice filled the shop. "It almost physically pains me to see the pining you do, it's like you're selling a forest to the poor boy. Where's your dignity, huh? It won't hurt to try."

"Yeah, well you could lose a regular if I fuck up." Keith retorted, returning to the task at hand.

"Oh, please," Shiro scoffed, crossing his arms. "You're constantly giving him drinks on the house. We barely profit from him."

"You're killing our forests, Keith."

"Oh, my God. Fine, fine! I'll ask for his number, I guess. Jeez."

Eventually.

 

On a fine autumn day, Keith asked a question.

"So, why don't you order anything with sugar?" He asked Lance, whom was practically shaking his ass as his hips swayed from side to side, in tune with the music. "We're known for sugar-y drinks and pastries."

"Yeah, well," Lance sighed, a rueful smile on his face. "I'm diabetic. Type 1, actually, in case you were wondering why I'm not fat or don't eat a lot of sugar; going on twenty years now. Plus, the medication for my ADHD makes me a little too calm sometimes and the coffee helps that; No sugar equals no sugar high. Though, I'm not supposed to drink coffee with the meds but what do they know?"

"You know, doctors often diagnose dudes with ADHD on accident. My mom's a nurse, she's told me about the lawsuits the hospital gets because of that. Morons don't know to sue the doctor." Keith replied, slightly surprised.

Lance smiled deviously, "I'm taking sugar pills but my mom doesn't know. But they do make me sleepy and I shouldn't drink coffee. They also give me mood swings. But better than being misdiagnosed by a shit doctor who forgot what they learned in their twelve years of medical school."

"The whole diabetes thing is new info for me. You can't have any sugar? Or is it just too much work? My mother never really talked about it enough for me to not sound ignorant."

"Yeah, I can eat sugar if I give enough of my medication for it. But it's a hassle to eat sugar foods and keep my blood sugar under control."

"Any other problems I should know about?" 

"I'm clinically depressed..." Lance muttered, looking at the floor. "I'm a pretty good actor, and fuck taking more pills than I need. Listen, I'm gonna go home. I'll buy two coffees tomorrow."

Keith wore a frown for the rest of the day.

 

Lance did indeed buy two coffees the next morning with a smile. Keith wondered if that was acting, too.

 

Lance walked in the day after the might-be-a-stalker dude, now sniffling and sneezing. The guy that was asking about Lance was behind him, frowning. His hands were hovering around him and Lance looked backward, glaring. The guy's hands dropped. Lance made it to the counter and sneezed into the crook of his elbow. It was cute, sounding like a kitten. His cream sweater was baggy on him and quite frankly, he looked adorable. 

Keith grinned, "Well, looks like you kept your promise. You still look like shit."

Lance leaned forward on the counter and Keith's eyes widened, concerned. His eyes were bloodshot.

"I'll still fuck you up, _esé."_ He threatened and leaned back, clutching his head. "God damn, you have anything for headaches?"

"We have-" 

Lance sniffled and sneezed again. He seriously, without a doubt, sounded like a kitten. The wide collar of the sweater caused half of it to slide down, exposing one of Lance's shoulders and a smooth collarbone. Keith subconsciously licked his lips.

"That's so cute," Keith whispered to himself instead of the _that's so sexy_ that ran through his mind. 

"What? No!" Lance exclaimed. A blush spread across the bridge of his nose. "This isn't cute, this is mutiny! I feel like a wet blanket!"

I - uh," Keith stuttered, feeling awkward. "Anyway, there's a coffee with a shot of ibuprofen. I'm not sure it's completely legal but the caffeine and pain killer will work together."

"Hunk, can you pay?" Lance asked the man he walked in with. Hunk? What an odd name.

"Lance, that's kind of sketchy." Hunk said, frowning. Lance rolled his eyes and felt around himself, tan hands patting around his body. "Come here for a sec." Hunk said, dragging him to the front door then stopping.

Keith looked Lance up and down, noticing the snug black jeans and white canvas shoes Lance wore. The dude was seriously  _fine._

_Lord have mercy on my hormones._

He watched the argument closely. Hunk would say something, seemingly placating, and Lance would furrow his brows. He noticed he talked with his hands often, but now the action was out of agitation. Hunk said something again, face hard. Lance gave a sarcastic laugh and held his hand out. Hunk sighed and reached into his pocket, placing Lance's wallet in his hands. Lance smiled and hugged Hunk, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Oh.

Damn it all.

They came back to the counter and Keith gave him a questioning look.

"This big guy," he hit the back of his hand on Hunk's stomach. "Took my wallet so I-" Lance scrunched up his nose for a moment before sighing "-wouldn't come here."

"Why?" Keith asked, mildly offended.

"Dunno, said I come here too often," Lance said, opening his wallet. "Hunk, you gotta be fucking with me right now. Where's my money?"

"Sorry, nope, not giving it to you." Hunk said, rubbing his temples.

" _My head hurts!"_ Lance yelled, cradling his head.

"Then stop yelling!"

Lance almost literally growled and turned to Keith with pleading eyes. "Please, Mullet, one on the house?"

Keith thought back to what Shiro said about profit. The drink was twenty dollars, a ridiculous price for a coldbrew, and there was no way he was going to put that on the house.

"Sorry, Lance, I can't." Keith shrugged, trying his hardest not to feel guilty.

Lance's face fell, "Oh, okay. I'll see you..." He said quietly. His steps were fast as he sped out of the store, Hunk trailing behind.

Shiro was suddenly next to Keith. He whistled lowly, "That was not a very happy expression."

Keith pouted and let his shoulders sag. "He had a bad headache and his friend took all of his money. He asked for one on the house but then I thought about how you said we barely profit from him. So I said no."

"Why didn't you just tell him to pay next time?" He heard Pidge ask from her station as she made a latte for the customer at her register.

Realization dawned on his face and he slapped a hand to his forehead. "God damn it! He probably hates me now."

Shiro scoffed, "You're so dramatic, I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

 

Lance McClain was late for his scheduled coffee. He would typically arrive at 10:30am but cuttently, it was 12:48pm and still he hadn't showed up. The staff noticed Keith's sulking despite the fake smile he put on for the customers. Not even a minute later, Lance walked into the shop. He glanced at the very long line of people at his register versus the short one of Pidge's. He wandered over to her line and Keith felt his heart sink.

He heard wet coughing coming from Lance, then a sneeze. "Hey, Pidgey." He croaked. He sounded terrible.

"Lance?" She briefly glanced at Keith. "How come you're not in Keith's line? And are you sure that's just Hay fever?"

"It's too long, and don't worry about me," he said quietly, with a dismissive wave. "Anything for a sore thr-" Lance sneezed.

"Sore throat? Yeah. But it has a vinegar aftertaste." She responded, sneaking another look at Keith. He was almost sure his face was crestfallen.

"I'll take it," Lance said softly, voice rough. "How much?" He pulled his wallet out from his sweatpants. They hung low on his hips and a strip of tan, fit skin exposed itself under Lance's white t-shirt. A customer cleared their throat. Keith's attention snapped to them.

"Sorry. What did you order?"

"A blonde roast coffee, small." The woman stated.

"Okay," Keith muttered, grabbing a cup. His mind was preoccupied. Keith has had long lines before but Lance would wait at the end of the line to talk to him. But today? All because he didn't give him a coffee?

"Pidgeon, you're a saint." Lance sighed, and took a sip of the coffee, then his lips puckered. "This is gross," He declared, then coughed wetly into his sleeve.

"Lance, you really don't look well." Keith interjected. For the first time that day, Lance looked Keith in the eyes. The blue was glossy and he was sweating lightly.

"I took this line because I need to get home, duh. It's nap time." He said before smiling at Pidge and walking out of the café.

"Hello?!" The woman asked. Keith gritted his teeth.

"Okay, no. My line is closed." Keith put the sign on his counter that said 'CLOSED FOR NOW' and walked to the back, the sounds of annoyed customers groaning filling his ears. He found Shiro lounging on the couch, eyes closed. "He hates me! You know what Lance could do? He can fuck off."

Shiro turned his head lazily towards Keith. "Nah,"

"Yah!" Keith said, crossing his arms to somehow defend himself. "He said he had to go home quickly for a nap. He went to Pidge because she had a shorter line, but Lance would usually wait for me!"

"How did Lance look?"

"Sick," Keith said, sitting on a chair next to Shiro.

"Then wouldn't it make sense for him to go to the shorter line." Shiro said, deadpan.

Keith stared at the ground. "I'm such a moron, oh my freaking frick."

 

The next day, Lance came in at 8:00am and headed straight to Keith. He didn't look much different than yesterday but this time his face was lightly flushed. "Yo, I'm not mad at you, so just chill. I needed to lay down and your line was way too fucking long. Anything for sleep?"

Keith blinked at Lance. "Why would you think I thought you were mad at me?"

"You're like an open book to me, Keith."

"Oh," Keith shuffled awkwardly in his spot. "So, Hunk. Is he your friend?"

"Yeah." Lance said, giving Keith an odd look.

"Oh."

"Keith, sleep stuff?" Lance reminded him.

"Right!" He said, a little too loudly. "We have, uh... an almond butter smoothie."

"Alright, how-" And suddenly Lance wasn't standing. Keith watched in shock as his legs gave out and he collapsed onto the floor, back hitting the ground with a resounding thump. Lance glared at the ceiling, eyes watering to the point where a small tear escaped his left eye. "Can you pass me a napkin. I'm not getting up."

Keith hurriedly grabbed a napkin and squatted beside Lance. He looked miserable as he snatched the napkin out of Keith's hands and reached into his pocket. In red ink, he wrote something down, folded it, and handed it to Keith. "Open this once I leave," He stated. He struggled to stand then walked out without ordering a coffee.

Keith opened the paper in his hand and flushed heavily.

"Okay, that was weird. I wonder if he's okay." Pidge wondered. "Why is your face so red?" She asked. Keith silently shoved the paper into her hands and buried his face in his hands. On the paper, Lance wrote a number and under it, 'Call me sometime ;).'

Pidge, in a very uncharacteristic way, squealed. "Fuck yes!"

Keith felt hot all over and shook his head. "He's gonna kill me, Pidge. I was supposed to ask."

"Ha, this is what you get for being a puss-"

"Shut up."

 

Keith sat on his bed, staring at the napkin. His phone was in his right hand, the napkin in the left. His eyes continued to flicker between the paper and his phone. Pidge sat across from him, clearly unamused.

"I don't- should I?" Keith asked no-one in particular. "I mean, he gave it to me. So. I should contact him, right? Why does he make me feel this way? He's not perfect. He's obnoxious and loud and... has anxiety, and is insecure... but he's lively and makes the room light up with a corny pick-up lines and I just. I want to protect him. And I know I can't do it alone. What should I do?"

"Oh, my God. Just-"

"Mm, I should put him in my phone. Yeah. I'll add his number." Before he could chicken out, he dialled Lance's phone number and added it to his contacts. A little disgusted with himself, he made Lance's icon a red heart. "What now?"

"Text-"

"I'll text him. That's nice and safe. No problems with a little texting." Keith inhaled sharply and jumped when Pidge began to speak loudly.

"Why am I even here?!" She screamed, pushing up her glasses on her nose. "You're just talking to yourself!"

"I need emotional support!" Keith retorted, dragging a hand through his hair then folding his arms across his chest, frustrated. He was almost positive that he looked like a madman. "What should I say?"

Pidge snatched the phone off of Keith's lap and snorted at Lance's photo. "Really, a heart?" She said to herself. Keith chewed on his thumbnail and got lost in his thoughts.

_What if he gave me a fake number?_

_What if it was a prank?_

_What if Pidge sends a flirty and abnormal text?_

_What if he's dead?_

He felt his phone back on his lap and peered at the message Pidge sent.

**To: Lance**

**hey cutie**

"Pidge!" Keith screeched. He desperately typed out an apology but before he could send it, a message popped up.

**From: Lance**

**'Sup, handsome?**

"Oh my fuck." Keith whispered. Lance would almost literally be the death of him. "He just-"

**From: Lance**

**I'm assuming this is Keith. Is this my favorite Mullet Man?**

When Keith swallowed thickly and flushed, Pidge read the texts upside down.

"All he did was call you handsome, chill."

"Listen, Pidge," Keith bit out. "Just because you haven't met someone that likes you doesn't mean you can't empathize with someone. And he said favorite Mullet Man!"

"You're a rude enigma that I don't want to figure out." Pidge muttered.

**To: Lance**

**I am so sorry Pidge took my phone and texted you because I couldn't**

**From: Lance**

**Why couldn't you, Bun-Bun?**

Keith shrieked and threw his phone across the room. Luckily, it landed on a stray pile of dirty clothes.

"Holy shit, Keith! What happened?" Pidge asked, scrambling to grab his phone. Keith held her ankle and pulled her back before she could even get up.

"Don't worry about it,  _Katie."_

Pidge made an annoyed clicking sound before escaping Keith's hands and diving for the phone. She smiled deviously.

"Pidge, please don't make this weird," Keith groaned, hanging his head in defeat.

"Nah, I got this," She responded. That evil smirk didn't leave her face.

**To Lance:**

**no real reason, what are you doin?**

"Katie!" Keith hollered. "Come here!"

"Listen, my young child, I got this. You'll be happy." 

**From Lance:**

**At the gym, and do NOT judge me**

**To: Lance**

**prove it**

**From: Lance**

**Oh?**

Keith opened his mouth but was silenced by the irritated looked Pidge sent his way.

**To: Lance**

**send a pic, has to be from now**

**From: Lance**

**Well, alright, ya weirdo**

The phone hit Keith hard in the face when Pidge threw it at him. She hurried to climb back onto the bed and watched Keith with excited eyes.

"Wow, I am astounded. I'm numb. You asked for a pic." Keith mumbled, staring at his screen.

**From: Lance**

_**Image received. Download and open?** _

"Here goes nothing, Keith. Open it now."

_**Opening...** _

Keith couldn't stop looking, eyes roaming around Lance's lazy form. The photo was taken in a big mirror. Lance wore sweatpants, different from before, but they still barely clung to his hips. His hands were casually stuffed into his pants and a dazed smirk laced his mouth. A snapback sat on his head, front flipped to the back of his head. Wet and curly hairs sprung out from the clear space.

Oh, yeah, and he's shirtless.

And  _sweaty._

Keith took in the expanse of tan, slick skin and muscle shaped into a six pack, broad shoulders, sexy biceps and a happy...

Very happy trail.

But he still looked ill with the way he was pale for his skin tone and the amazingly red flush of his entire body.

**From: Lance**

**So this said you opened the pic 5 minutes ago and you're sorta making me think you bailed. Do I look like a douche? Or just bad in general?** **sorry. But you asked, man. You're weird. And it's not fair that you ask me to do that then don't give feedback for fuck's sake, Keith**

"Has he even seen himself?" Keith asked himself. He vaguely heard Pidge laugh in the background.

"Even I know Lance is attractive," Pidge laughed gleefully and hopped off of his bed, stretching. "I'm gonna go now. Have fun with your future husband."

"Yeah, bye." Keith heard the door slam and finally let the flush consume his face and feel heat go straight to... well.

**To: Lance**

**NO NO YOU'RE H**

**you look good**

**From: Lance**

**Huh, what was that? That word that started with an H that you didn't finish?**

Keith rolled his eyes, deciding to type out what he really wanted to say.

**To: Lance**

~~**I just think you're really fucking funny and cute and hot and just ugh wanna lick you EVERYWHERE HOLY SHIT YOU ARE FUCKING FINE AS HELL, STOP STRAIGHTENING YOUR HAIR YOU SEXY FUCK I WILL ACCEPT ALL OF YOU JESUS CHRIST YOU ARE ACTUALLY A BLESSING BOTH OUT AND IN** ~~

Keith finished and sighed. Without thinking, he pressed send and froze in his spot. Oh, no. Oh no oh no oh no.

**From: Lance**

**That really boosted my self-esteem, wow. Thank you -3-**

Jaw jutting out, Keith slammed his hand down on his thigh. There was no way in Hell that Lance didn't see that as a confession.

**To: Lance**

**You're making me tired good night**

**From: Lance**

**Aw, so soon, buttercup? Sweet dreams.**

Keith calmed his pulse and plugged his phone into the charger roughly. Turning off the lamp by his bedside, he rolled up into his sheets with a grin that was impossible to get rid of. He drifted off to sleep.

 

During Keith's shift, Lance did not show up. By the time the clock struck one, Keith began to cross his arms, sneering and rolling his eyes at every customer. It came to the point where Pidge was the nice one.

"Take a break,  _Bun-Bun."_ Pidge mocked, greeting a new customer with a polite 'Hello, how was your day?'

Keith gritted his teeth to the point of pain and stormed to the break room. He threw his gloves onto the table and kicked the chair out of frustration. Lance was testing his last nerve and he didn't even do anything to deserve Keith's rage.

In all honesty, Lance was what made Keith's day. His petty competitions--Shiro didn't like the one where Keith and Lance would see who could get the most amount of tips because he couldn't pay Lance for working, and Lance _always_ wins--because they made him hide a smile. Sometimes he would even argue with him about the stupidest things (in which Lance picked a fight with Keith because the mug was slightly chipped, something that Keith couldn't fix. Lance was promptly sent home) and kept Keith from snapping at everything. He made the café brighter when he walked into the room. So maybe Keith wanted Lance there to keep him company. What of it?

"What is  _wrong_ with me? You know what? Fuck Lance." Keith said to himself. At the back of his mind, he knew that Lance had no obligation to visit the café.

**To: Lance**

**and you're not here because??**

Keith took a deep breath. Maybe Lance thought he was weird for asking for a picture.

_I'm not the one who asked for it!_

**From: Lance**

**_Image received. Download and open?_  
**

**_Opening..._ **

The photo contained a thermometer on a wooden floor. It flashed in bright red, '106.1° GO TO THE NEAREST HOSPITAL IMMEDIATELY.' Filled with pure, worried rage, Keith angrily called Lance.

_"Hello?"_

"Lance, what the fuck?" Keith yelled. His eyebrows were in a permanent state of worry.

 _"What happened?"_ Lance coughed out roughly. He heard him wheeze slightly through the phone.

"Go to the hospital right now," Keith said lowly. "And give me your location."

Lance rattled off his address casually, without thought. Keith wrote it down. _"I'm at home, I can take care of myself. I'm in a cold bath and took some asprin."_ Lance rasped.

Keith sighed, exasperated and frightened for Lance. "You're not supposed to take a cold bath! For Christ's sake, go to the emergency room!"

_"No you."_

He stared at his phone in silence. Lance had hung up on him.

_I'm gonna kill him before that fever does._

 

Fifteen minutes later, Keith pulled to the front of an apartment building. It was aesthetically pleasing and looked like the rent was expensive. He pushed through the revolving doors and looked for door number 175.

The building was twenty-five stories high.

Fuck.

Using logic, Keith counted seven apartments on each too-large floor. This meant Lance lived in the last apartment. Keith sighed and solemnly pushed the elevator button. He waited a while, scowling at everyone that glanced his way. Finally, the doors opened, and he stepped in. 

After what felt like twenty thousand hours later, Keith arrived. He ran through the hall and knocked on door 175. When no reply came, he twisted the doorknob and it gave, opening the entrance to the apartment.

It was all sleek edges and simple colors, but he heard a sneeze come from his left. He could gape at the vastness of Lance's home later. After carefully navigating, he found the bathroom Lance was in. Lance sleepily looked to his side as he sat in the bathtub.

"I had a sneaking suspicion that this would happen," Lance coughed.

His body was flushed almost red and he was drenched in what Keith assumed was sweat. His eyes were red and wet, the blue in them almost neon, and very puffy. He was stiff and wheezing lightly. Keith watched as he gagged for a brief moment. Snot was leaking out of his nose and his eyes were tearing with every rattling breath, lips insanely dry as he breathed through his mouth. Lance's hair stuck to his head and Keith's breath hitched; Lance looked like he was going to die. The place reeked of sickness.

Keith rushed to Lance and submerged his hand in the water of the bathtub he sat in; thank God Lance was wearing boxers. The area around Lance was warm but the liquid coming from the faucet was cold. Keith hurriedly turned the water off and glared at Lance half-heartedly.

"I'm feeling really icky," Lance tried for a wobbly smile but ended up wincing.

"Meaning you were sick while you were at the gym," Keith hissed. Lance struggled to keep his eyes open. "What are your symptoms?"

"I feel hot and cold," Lance started, voice monotone and body limp. "And I'm sweaty. And I keep sneezing and coughing; really annoying, honestly." He paused to sneeze. "Hurts when I breathe. Really thirsty. And snot. My body hurts  _everywhere."_

"Your body could have gone into shock from the fluctuations in temperature. Do you understand how serious this is? Forget if you were someone with a healthy immune system; you're diabetic! Your immune system is weaker than an average person's! Lance-" Keith managed to swallow the sob he was barely containing. "-you could die!"

Lance's eyes closed, "I know. And it would be O.K. At least I met you and the rest of my friends, right? 'S not like m' family is 'live to me anyw's." He smiled serenely as his speech slurred and Keith watched in agony as his chest began to rise and fall more slowly until it stopped.

Shocked out of his stupor, he felt for Lance's pulse. 

It wasn't there.

Running on pure adrenaline, he dragged Lance out of the bathtub and gently placed him on the floor, beginning to perform CPR as best as he could. He screamed, and screamed, and  _screamed_ for someone, anyone, to help them. He counted the seconds that Lance's heart wasn't beating. Hunk came bursting through the door, breathing hard.

"I already called for an ambulance ten minutes ago. They're about one minute away."

 

Lance had been dead for two minutes and five seconds. Keith felt like he had been screaming for hours; in reality, it was for about thirty seconds.

When the crew got there, they pushed Keith to the side and he watched as they pulled out a machine. One person named Allura touched his chest and winced at the heat. He watched as the team worked together to successfully get Lance's heart beating again.

He argued with them to let him ride in the ambulance; they refused. Keith drove to the hospital with urgency. After waiting in the ER, a nurse finally told Keith that he could enter the room. They made him pull on a suit and gestured him towards a room in the ER roped off with a plastic tarp that read 'WARNING: EXTREMELY CONTAGIOUS.'

Swallowing thickly, Keith entered the room. There lay Lance, eyes closed and pulse steady but slow. A doctor looked up from his board and gestured for Keith to sit.

"Hello, I'm doctor Smythe." The man said, voice slightly muffled. The smile lines and mustache indicated that he was typically a happy person, but this situation was not pleasant.

"Keith," he said gruffly.

Silence stretched before Smythe sighed. "Your friend very nearly died in that bathroom, Keith. Anything above 107° can could brain damage and his fever was still going up when his heart started beating."

Keith's mouth parted and a quiet "Oh." escaped him.

"Being dead for more than three minutes means permanent brain damage. I'm actually happily surprised that he managed to live for this long with his condition." The doctor continued. Keith felt his eyes begin to burn. "He has the swine flu."

"That's still a thing?" Keith asked quietly.

"Yes, but it's rare in North America. His immune system is quite weak, even for a diabetic. But everyone he's contacted should get checked. The pig influenza is hard to get but easily spread.

"We'll start with fluids and antivirals. You must wear a suit in his room until he is fully recovered. We will be moving him to the ICU now. There was no brain damage; he will wake up within an hour. And please tell him to stop taking the sugar pills. He doesn't need to trick his brain into thinking it's real medication. The boy doesn't have ADHD." The doctor said swiftly. He smiled tightly and exited the room. Keith stared at Lance until a nurse told him he had to leave the room for them to move Lance.

He complied and followed.

 

Lance woke twenty-three minutes later.

He looked confused and vaguely annoyed when he saw the IV in his arm. Keith watched as he took in his surroundings and his gaze finally landed on Keith. He jumped a bit, startled, but immediately groaned in pain.

"Keith?" He said. "Why are you wearing that?"

"You have the swine flu," Keith whispered, eyes watering. "You died, Lance. For two minutes, you died."

"Guess you'd have to start practicing necromancy to get me back without the hospital, huh?" Lance tried to joke, grimacing and rubbing his throat.

 _"That's not anywhere near funny!"_ The sob ripped through Keith's throat and he bit his lip to stop. He breathed harshly, "That's not fucking funny. I care about you. You're one of my close friends, and I care about you a lot. If you ever die again, I'll kill you."

"Redundant," Lance muttered, looking at Keith's two hands holding on to his. He didn't say anything about it.

"Hunk's coming with food." Keith murmured, thumbs idly rubbing circles on Lance's knuckles. He heard Lance hum. They sat in silence for thirty minutes when Hunk entered the room. He froze when he saw Lance awake.

Dropping the fast-food on Lance's lap, he hugged him tightly. Keith quickly let go of his hand. "Oh, Buddy, I'm so glad you're alive! I'll get the doctors."

"Hunky, I'm in pain," Lance wheezed out. Hunk let go sheepishly. Then Pidge walked in with angry tears.

"You fucker, never do that to me again!" She shrieked, touching Lance's face gently through the plastic of her suit. It was large on her, comically so. "I can't lose another brother, okay?"

"Thank you, Katie. Pinky promise I won't." Lance said. They linked their pinkies together and Pidge smiled.

Hunk grinned and went to fetch a nurse and their assigned doctor. Lance relayed his insurance information to the nurse, along with existing medical problems as well as medication and the doctor relayed the information to Lance.

"Coran, you're the one that said to take the sugar pills." Lance deadpanned softly.

"No need, I called your mother already." The doctor Smythe--Coran--smiled and bowed, leaving the room.

"She's gonna be so mad," Lance muttered to himself. He glanced at Hunk, "Did I miss _Cinqo de Mayo?"_

"You weren't even out for a full day," Pidge rolled her eyes.

Keith screwed his eyes closed and felt the relief flood over him.

 

Two weeks later, Lance McClain was only in the hospital for observation. People could come and go without wearing ugly plastic suits. Hunk visited that day briefly, handing Lance something and they exchanged wicked smiles.

"Bleh, hospital food was sent here from Tartarus." Lance complained, poking at his rubber-like chicken.

"Do you mean by Hades?" Keith supplied. Lance looked dramatically offended.

"Hades isn't a bad guy, I don't understand why people make him out to be! He's perfect! It's like you don't realize that he can send you to a good place, you know, Elysium--where I will go--and-" Keith stopped listening and watched Lance fondly. His curly soft hair and the freckles on his nose that he usually tried to hide. The passionate spark in his eyes from talking about  _Greek mythology_ out of all things. He was still beautiful without the products he used.

Keith tuned back in at the flush on Lance's face and his serious expression, "I'm sorry, what?"

Lance threw up his hands and stood in his hospital given socks, disconnecting part of his IV to stand in front of Keith. He turned briefly and Keith took a moment to appreciate Lance's underwear clad bottom, disregarding the sound of a chip bag opening. Lance spun around to face with something behind his back.

"Stand up, you peeping Tom." Lance ordered with a small smile. Keith crossed his arms and rose, mad at himself for getting caught and horribly embarrassed.

Lance got down on one knee, his still hiding something behind his back. Keith raised an eyebrow in a challenge.

"Keith, you are a frustrating, awesome, gorgeous person with a mullet so hideous that it burns my eyes, and a man that makes my day on a regular basis. So," Lance beamed, then-

Pulled out a Ring Pop from behind his back.

"Be my boyfriend? Unconventional, considering we've never even been on a date, but-"

Keith let out a booming laughed and crouched, holding his stomach. He could see Lance's almost stoic but entertained expression through the tears in his eyes.

_Holy fuck, I hate him so much._

"Just flat out laughed as a rejection. That's a first," Lance grinned, undeterred.

Keith sobered, still letting out a giggle every now and then, before he took a deep breath. "What's the flavor?" He asked, eyeing the red candy. 

"Well, I assumed your favorite flavor was raspberry 'cause you're sweet but sour and you're turning  _so red_ right now. As predicted, I am, indeed, an oracle."

Blushing profusely, Keith held out his left hand for Lance to slide on the too-small ring. "Actually, my favorite flavor is strawberry. But, out of pure pity, I accept."

The responding curl of pretty pink lips and a bone crushing hug filled with adoration made Keith squeal inwardly.

 

Keith spoke to a customer, voice cracking and face red as he greeted her. He was trying to keep his face straight as Lance's arms wrapped around waist, chest flush against his back.

"Are you okay?" The woman asked out of politeness.

Lance's wandering hands began to dip lower under his apron and he nuzzled the back of Keith's neck. Keith got the urge to punch him in his stupid face. He regretted taking on the challenge immensely.

_Lance came in as soon as the shop opened and slid behind the counter, hips bumping against Keith's._

_"I challenge you, sir, to a duel!" Lance exclaimed. "Who can make the most customers blush."_

_Keith looked at him, mouth twitching downwards. "That's child's play."_

_As if knowing what Keith would say, Lance smiled almost sleazily. "Fine, how about who can make the other mess up a drink via sexually?"_

_Keith scoffed, "Easy. You got a deal."_

It was not easy.

Especially considering Keith had shown Lance how to make all of the drinks on the menu. There was no way he would mess up the recipe.

They agreed that they would both do half a shift. The rules said that no sex would be happening, just scandalous actions.

Lance didn't crack once. The only way he knew Lance was affected was the dark blush on the back of his neck and the subtle freeze he'd do when Keith really amped it up. His voice stayed smooth and he didn't shake.

But God knew Keith was weak towards physical affection.

 _Maybe God hates me,_ Keith thought as a shiver ran up his spine. Lance had dipped his thumbs into the waistband of Keith's underwear. His hand rose slightly to play with the small hairs leading down to Keith's crotch. He felt Lance's head peek out through the back if his head.

"Oh," The woman breathed. "Hello." Her face lit up in a radiant magenta.

"Hey," Lance said, voice deep.

"Your eyes are very intense," the woman said quietly.

"Well, thank you very much." Lance smiled. He tended to bask in compliments when they were given to him and it made Keith frown. Did he not compliment Lance enough?

"Yeah, I'm good," Keith said, weakly. "Large iced Caebiña tea, you got it. Three forty-nine, please." Lance snatched his hands away from Keith as he took and put away the money,  putting them behind his back innocently as he followed Keith to make the drinks.

He played around with the waistband of Keith's jeans casually, occasionally letting his finger run a little up his spine. It caused Keith to tremble constantly and for Pidge to look at the couple in disgust. Lance squeezed his ass and Keith jumped, extremely close to dropping the drink. He glared at nothing.

"You guys are nasty," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. The store was closing after the woman Keith was serving left.

Lance snickered in his ear. "If anything, Keith's just plain  _naughty."_ The last word was a whisper just for Keith to hear. Once again, he nearly dropped the tea.

"Did you just call your boyfriend plain?" Pidge asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, sure, Pigeon."

Lance stayed close to Keith as he walked back to the woman carefully. Keith could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck.

_C'mon, just ten more seconds-_

Just as he was about to hand the drink to the woman, Lance ran his hands along the insides of Keith's thighs, stopping him.

 _"When we get home,"_ Lance laughed, breathy, in Keith's ear as he whispered, " _I'm gonna fuck you 'til you can't speak without thinking of your loud moans that **I** gave you."_

Keith hissed out "Fuck!" As his hand involuntarily squeezed the living shit out of the cup. Lance won; God damn it.

But because Lance is a living shit-head, he bit gently onto Keith's ear, pulling a drawn-out moan from his throat. He pulled the dry hand to his mouth, shocked.

_I wanna die, Katie looks like she's gonna disown me, Lance's stupid and boisterous laugh is mocking me, and this lady looks roughly turned on._

"I," The woman paused with a tense smile. "I'll be leaving, don't worry about it." When she finally made it out of the door, Keith turned and shoved Lance's chest, making him laugh and stumble back a step.

"Are you fucking kidding me," Keith growled.

"Hey, I didn't touch your private parts. And I found a weak spot!" Lance cheered, singing 'I'm Walking on Sunshine' as he skipped around the store.

"Pidge, please write 'I just wanna die' on my gravestone." Keith pleaded.

"Actually," Pidge smirked, watching Lance with sisterly love, "I'll write 'I was a kinky fuck L-O-L.'"

Keith groaned and dropped his head in his hands as he listened to Pidge cackle. He turned a bright red when he heard Lance wolf whistle and say, "Keith, Baby, you looked sexy as all Hell!"

 

They were cuddled up in bed, watching a stupid rerun of Ghost Adventures. Lance was invested in the show while Keith smiled and idly played with his wedding ring. His was black platinum with a ruby in the center and Lance's own was white platninum with a saphire in the middle.

"Hey, Lance. Why did you think it was O.K. to die?" His face was hesitant but serious.

Lance paused the show and peered at Keith curiously. "When did I say- oh, shit. Just drop it, Babe. I didn't wanna talk about it before and I don't wanna talk about it now." He kissed Keith's cheek but he wasn't sated.

"No, I wanna know. Please, we've been together for ten years. Just... don't you trust me?" Keith said, attempting to not show his amusement.

"Ha, cute." Lance said, deadpan.

They had a running gag about Keith saying "Don't you trust me?" about small things, like picking a mop for the floor or maybe a new toy for their dogs Blue and Red.

But then Lance sighed, "I got a degree in physics and astronomy, despite my parent's disapproval." Lance smiled sadly. "But I was a pretty smart kid and studied business as well. I was working for a company when I met you. They payed plenty and I decided to move out of my parents' house into that apartment. But I got pretty lonely, even with Hunk and Pidge.

"Then my family stopped talking to me when I quit that job. It was boring and not interesting at all. But astronomy?" Lance smiled wistfully. "That's where all the cool stuff is. I wanted to be far away. From all the hate in this world. I thought my family loved me, but apparently not enough.

"So I got really depressed. That's when I was diagnosed with both ADHD and depression. In hindsight, the combination didn't make much sense but, whatever. Somehow, my mother found out and she wanted to help. Gave me money to buy my medication even though I had plenty saved up. But she was the only one who came back for me. It wasn't enough for me to forgive her." Lance clenched his fists and Keith rubbed his stomach in a sooth manner, coaxing information out of him.

"So then I started thinking about things and asking myself questions. Mama didn't need to pay, wouldn't it be easier if I wasn't alive so she doesn't have to? Or, she betrayed me, I should do the same and end my life. Do Pidge and Hunk really like me? Do they just tolerate me? Pidge says she hates me on a regular basis and I think Hunk just puts up with me, do they honestly want me? It made my depression worse but I was at the point that I decided. Everyone that I cared about? Their lives would be easier, happier with me gone. Even I would be happy among the stars and planets that I hold dear to my heart.

"Then, one day, I walked into a café. With this sulky, captivating man named Keith Kogane. And I enjoyed to irritate the heck out of him. Then I noticed I didn't flirt with him at all. I genuinely liked him enough that I knew he deserved more than my shitty excuses for pick-up lines. We got to know each other more and more. I thought my crush was obvious. His crush really was, especially when I got close to him and that one time I said he had pretty eyes." Lance laughed and Keith watched, silent.

"Then my feelings were locked in when I was sick but didn't know it, then I sneezed, and he called it cute. Right there, I knew. And I was happy to have met him. He made me happy but that feeling of not being wanted or needed still lingered. Of course, he distracted me when I wanted to compete with stupid things, but  _it was still there._ I remember I had told him I was clinically depressed and a good actor. I really was happy when I saw him. I gave him my number and he texted me. I didn't know it was apparently a confession.

"But it still let a peak of sun through my dark days. And the day I was really sick, he called me, angry. He was angry because I was sick, the little fucker." A soft smile sat of Lance's face as he gazed at Keith. "But he saved me. I would've died of the swine flu, of all things. But it just wouldn't go away. So when I asked Keith to go out with me, I was delighted when he agreed to. In reality, he saved me from myself. He managed to get my friends together and help me feel good. Eventually, I felt needed. I realized that I didn't need my old family and their terrible attitudes. I cut my mother out of my life. I had new family; perfectly imperfect.

"I learned that Katie is mean to me because she thinks of me as a brother. I learned that Hunk really does need and want me. I met a shop owner, Shiro, that sees me as an equal. A pretty woman by the name Allura that made her way from an ambulance to a coffee shop. I met myself and realized that, hey, I'm worth it. And I met the love of my life, the mullet in my hair salon, the blood of my heart. He's really something special, and his name is now Keith McClain. It took a lot to convince him to take my name.

"That little orphan boy, that dropout. That one, with the fascination for early morning dew on the grass. The one who had a crush on a Wonderpet. The one who tried to fight the only old family member that I kept, Coran, because he gave me sugar pills. The one that said 'We'll find a way for you to be happy all day everyday.' The boy that I'm head over heels for. The one I can still make blush. The boy that's smart as Hell but asks the stupidest questions." Lance's voice sounded wobbly and his eyes shined.

"Those assholes that didn't support me? That abandoned me then decided to come back? They can eat shit; I make enough money to support me and my husband. Keith is the owner of a chain of autoshops. I get to teach about space. And I'm just  _so happy."_

Keith felt himself crying rather than consciously doing it. Lance was sweet, and kind, and so incredibly romantic. He thought Keith saved him.

Maybe he did.

He sobbed into Lance's chest happily, wailing out, "I love you so much, Lance, too much."

"Who knew a diabetic could be so sweet, right?" Lance pressed a fond kiss to Keith's ridiculous haircut that he kept from his twenties--that hideous mullet--and Keith heard, "You're incredible. We deserve each other in the best way."

In the distance, Keith could hear their adopted children fighting.

"Papá! Nyma handcuffed me to the fridge door again!"

"Slav did that to himself, Daddy! Tell Papá he's lying!"


End file.
